


Bridge the Divide

by hollyandvice (hiasobi_writes)



Series: Ice Magic AU [8]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic), Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magic, Amnesia, M/M, Supernatural Illnesses, Temporary Amnesia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9222770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiasobi_writes/pseuds/hollyandvice
Summary: "What onearthis Viktor Nikiforov doing here?"The man on the bench beside Yuuri turns back to him, a bewildered look on his face. "What? Why wouldn't Viktor be here?""What are you… what does that even mean? I'm not… I'm no one to Viktor Nikiforov, why would he come here when he's supposed to be training for the Grand Prix series?"The spell to save Yuuri's life has some serious unintended consequences. Direct sequel toTo Skate Beside You.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta'ed. Written for H/C Bingo Round 7. Russian words have hovertext translations, and translations are also listed at the end.

When Yuuri blinks his eyes open to feel hard plastic at his back instead of his mattress, his first thought is that he fell too hard at practice.

He sits up slowly, and hears someone at his side gasp loudly. "You did it!" they call, and Yuuri flinches a little at the sound. "Jack, go get him, he did it!!"

Yuuri blinks a few times, clearing his vision, before turning slowly to meet the eyes of the person beside him.

He doesn't recognize them.

"Thank goodness, Yuuri, Phichit will be so glad to know you're alright!"

"I'm… sorry?"

The person nods. "Right, of course, I know you've been in and out for a few weeks now, of course you won't remember; I'll let Viktor--"

At the sound of the name, at the feeling of an unfamiliar rink, at the clean _snick_ of skates on ice, Yuuri can't stop the way his head snaps around to face the ice. He shouldn't be able to recognize anyone without his glasses--and where are they anyway?--but there's one skater that Yuuri knows by motion alone, and this man is it. For all that some strange, distant part of him goes soft at the image of _Viktor Nikiforov_ on the ice in front of him, the rest of him goes stock still at the sight. He turns to the person beside him, knowing he must look like a wild man. "What on _earth_ is Viktor Nikiforov doing here?"

The man on the bench beside Yuuri turns back to him, a bewildered look on his face. "What? Why wouldn't Viktor be here?"

"What are you… what does that even mean? I'm not… I'm no one to Viktor Nikiforov, why would he come here when he's supposed to be training for the Grand Prix series?"

The man's body shifts through several postures, and Yuuri's almost certain he's making a face to match each of them in turn, but he can't make them out. Then the man gets to his feet, gesticulating and shaking his head at the two men on the ice. "Don't!" he calls out. "Jack, don't let him--"

But instead of slowing down, Viktor just puts on a burst of speed, and by the time he's close enough that Yuuri should be able to make out his face--seriously, where are his glasses?--Yuuri can see the tense line in his shoulders. "What is it, Eric?" Viktor asks, and Yuuri thinks he sees Viktor turn to look at the other man. "What happened?"

Yuuri just stares up at Viktor, distantly, achingly glad that he can't see his idol's face up close. He draws in a shaking breath, and Viktor's head snaps to face his. Yuuri sees Viktor's face shift, but can't tell what expression he's wearing, at least until Viktor startles and leans over the boards to grab something from beside Yuuri. When Viktor gets whatever it is out of the bundle of clothes on the bench, he holds it out to Yuuri.

Momentarily frozen, Yuuri can do nothing but wait until Viktor chuckles and holds them a little closer. "Come on now, zvezda moya, you know you're blind without them."

Yuuri reaches out on autopilot, taking the offering and recognizing them instantly as his glasses. He slips them on his face, but he has to blink a few times before he can make himself look up at Viktor and meet his eyes.

The warmth there nearly bowls him over. It's enough that he has to force himself to look away, swallowing fiercely around the lump in his throat. If this is the cosmos's idea of a joke--

"Yuuri?" Viktor asks, but he's cut off by a third man skating toward them and calling out.

"Eric?" he calls out, and the man at Yuuri's other side turns to face the newcomer. "Eric, what happened?"

"I don't know," the man--Eric--says, voice tight and nervous. "When he woke up, he didn't seem to know where he was or why he was here which wouldn't worry me if it wasn't for the fact that he was also asking why Viktor was here."

Viktor's head snaps around to look at Eric, wide-eyed panic in his eyes. "He what?"

Eric shakes his head. "Viktor, I--"

"Eric," Viktory says, voice trembling in a way that Yuuri's never heard, "please don't sugarcoat it. What did he say?"

Eric's face is a mask of pain and concern, and Yuuri lets himself look back and forth between all three of them, trying to understand what's going on.

"I'm sorry, Viktor," Eric says, swallowing thickly. "He woke up and just… started asking why you were here. He said…." Eric flicks his eyes toward Yuuri, who only catches the movement out of the corner of his eye. "He said he's no one to you."

The devastation in Viktor's eyes almost sends Yuuri reeling back, something deep in his chest twisting and tightening and ramping his anxiety up higher than ever. But as Yuuri stares at the assembled individuals, he suddenly comes to the only logical conclusion, and in that instant all the worry dissipates. "I'm dreaming," he says, snapping his fingers and feeling relieved at the now obvious solution. "That's why Viktor Nikiforov and two people I've only ever met once are standing around in a rink I've never seen in my life… looking at me like I'm crazy," he adds, voice trailing off into a mumble. "Because I'm dreaming."

"Yuuri…" Viktor starts, but he trails off, looking lost and a little confused. He opens his mouth to speak again, only to shake his head and slowly skate backwards, away from the bench. "Sorry," he says, voice cracking. "Sorry, Jack, I--" He shakes his head again and turns around, skating to the doors at the other end of the rink.

The man on the ice--Jack--turns to look at Eric, who nods once in return. Jack takes off after Viktor, and Yuuri is left to stare after the pair of them, dumbfounded and confused.

This is one weird dream.

Eric stares after the pair of them for a moment longer before sitting down beside Yuuri, looking at him with a cautious sort of restraint in his eyes.

"Yuuri. What… why do you think this is a dream?"

Yuuri raises an eyebrow, but decides to play along. "Because there's literally no reason for me to be virtually alone in an ice rink with _Viktor Nikiforov_. I'm a nobody."

"But Yuuri…." Eric shakes his head. "Look, what do you do in Japan to prove to yourself that you're not dreaming? Do I have to pinch you or something? Because the sooner I can get you to believe that you're not dreaming, the sooner we can get to the bottom of this."

Yuuri blinks at the honest frankness in Eric's words. "You… you're serious."

"As a heart attack."

"This isn't a dream."

"Not even close."

"Oh my god," Yuuri says, feeling all the blood drain from his face as realization dawns. "Oh my god," he whispers, pressing his face into his hands. "If I'm not dreaming, then that…. That was the absolute _worst_ first impression I could have made!"

"First… first impression on who, Yuuri?" Eric asks, voice tinged with apprehension.

"Viktor Nikiforov!" Yuuri says, though he isn't too proud to admit it's closer to shrieking. "That was the worst way to meet him!" he adds, throwing his hands in the air.

Eric licks his lips, and opens his mouth twice before he speaks. "Yuuri, what… what's the last thing you remember?"

Yuuri almost doesn't want to indulge Eric in whatever game he's playing, too upset by what's just transpired, but he knows better than to be rude. "Practice with Phichit this afternoon. We went back to the dorms to study and then…" Yuuri frowns, reaching back through his memories. "I don't know, actually." He shrugs the worry off, other worries too pressing to bother with. "Must've fallen asleep."

"Practice with Phichit," Eric says, voice faint. "Practice… practice for what?"

"The Grand Prix series," Yuuri says, "what else?"

Eric stares Yuuri dead in the eye, and Yuuri can see the desperation in the gaze even as he feels his own throat close up at the look in it. "Yuuri. What year is it?"

Yuuri tilts his head to the side. "2015. Why?"

"Oh _no_."

"Eric?"

"We need to get Phichit on the phone."

Yuuri doesn't pretend to understand the strange trajectory of Eric's thoughts, indulging them instead. "Why?"

"Because it's not 2015, Yuuri."

"What do you mean it's not 2015?" Yuuri says with a laugh. "Of course it's 2015!"

"No, Yuuri. It's not." Eric turns to look at him again, deadly serious. "It's 2020, and the spell we just cast to save your life just cost you more than four years worth of memories."

Yuuri feels the numbness start in his fingertips and creep up toward his wrists as Eric reaches for his phone. For a second, Yuuri thinks of denying it. Of remaining in blissful ignorance of the apparent enormity of what's happened. Of pretending that nothing's wrong and Phichit is going to come pick him up and everything will go back to normal, with no Russian idols just out of arm's reach, or strange American men telling him unbelievable stories.

But as soon as the thought solidifies, Yuuri knows he can't do that. There's something going on here, something bigger than just himself. He can feel the way his body's changed, the way it's shifted and solidified into a true skater's body. He can feel too the aches and pains of years of skating, the way they center in his feet and stretch up his ankles and knees to his hips. Indeed, to be certain of the passage of time, he need look no further than his own left hand, where a gold band rests, brilliant and defiant on his ring finger. He blinks at it a few times, before looking over at Eric, holding his hand up in confusion. "I'm married?" he asks.

The pained look on Eric's face tells him all he needs to know.

"Oh," Yuuri says, lowering his hand and staring down at it. "Oh." It takes him a moment to notice he's started crying, and another to realize how much he wants to hold someone in his arms and be held in return. To be cradled and held and protected and--

"Yuuri?" Eric says, voice soft and careful. Yuuri blinks up at him, and sees Eric holding out his phone to him. "I've got Phichit on the phone. Do you want to talk to him?"

Yuuri blinks, processing the question, before reaching out and taking the offered device. "Phichit?" he asks, hearing the tremor in his own voice.

"Oh, Yuuri." Phichit sounds as though he wants nothing more than to be at Yuuri's side, and that alone is enough to have Yuuri begin to cry in full force. "I'm so sorry, Yuuri."

Through his tears, Yuuri manages to stammer out a few, desperate words. "What-- What happened, Phichit? Why did I-- How did you-- Who--"

Phichit shushes him gently. "Just breathe for a minute, Yuuri. Don't worry about the details just yet. Just breathe and calm down, okay? Just breathe."

Yuuri presses a hand over his eyes, trying to hide his pain even though he knows his friend can hear it. "I'm sorry," Yuuri mumbles, not even knowing why he's saying it. "I'm so sorry."

"Oh, Yuuri, no," Phichit says, his own voice trembling. "I should be the one apologizing. To think that I--" He huffs out a breath. "But you don't even know what I've taken from you, do you?"

The question only makes Yuuri cry harder, something deep in his chest screaming out for a retribution whose origin Yuuri cannot place. Phichit just goes on apologizing again and again until, gradually, as Yuuri's tears begin to subside, so too do Phichit's apologies.

"I don't know anything, Phichit," Yuuri whispers finally, wiping back the last of his tears. "I don't… I don't understand."

"I know. Where… where do you want me to start?"

_Who in their right mind thought it would be a good idea to marry me?_ "The spell. What was it for?"

"When you…. Do you remember why Minako convinced you to start skating?"

"Not really? Something about the ice being better for me."

Phichit huffs out a sharp breath. "You're an Ice Mage, Yuuri. And a darn strong one too."

"I'm… really?"

"Yeah. It's why Minako convinced you to start skating. Your magic was fine, tamed and under control until just recently. We think it's because Vik… because your new coach wasn't trained in how to keep your magic under control."

Yuuri almost misses the slip, but once it registers, he can't let it go. "Viktor's my new coach?" he asks with a quiet sort of disbelief.

Phichit doesn't answer right away, but eventually concedes with a quiet, "Yes, he is."

"But _why_?"

"That's a question you'll have to ask him."

Yuuri closes his eyes, drawing a slow, uneven breath. "So, something happened to my magic," he says, letting Phichit deflect from what may be the most important part of this conversation. "Then what?"

"After you… after the Grand Prix Final this year, you started displaying symptoms of Magical Overload. All your magic was backed up in your body, and we needed to get rid of it to save your life. I wrote the spell sequence and Viktor skated it. It was only supposed to drain your magic, but apparently it took more than that."

"My memories," Yuuri says, his voice soft. "Phichit… what have I forgotten?"

Phichit's laugh is hollow and aching. "More than you know, Yuuri. More than I could ever tell you."

"But you're my--" Yuuri stops short, something in his throat holding him back. Phichit's been his best friend for the last few years--ever since they started training together--but somehow the words won't let themselves be spoken.

"Not anymore," Phichit says, voice soft in a way that makes Yuuri's heart go tight. "I'm still important to you, and we're still close, but I'm not your best friend anymore, Yuuri. I haven't been for a long time."

"Why?"

"You found someone else that could be that for you, Yuuri. All that you needed in a best friend and more."

Unbidden, Yuuri's eyes flick to the band on his finger. "The person I married."

"Yes."

"Who is it, Phichit?"

Phichit is silent for a long time. When he speaks, there is something gentle and cautious in the words that sets a stone dropping in Yuuri's stomach. "I think you already know the answer to that."

The hardest part is that Yuuri thinks he does. In the end, he only has a single question for Phichit. " _How_?"

"You'll have to ask him."

\----

Eric drops Yuuri off in the locker room, refusing to let Yuuri see Viktor--his husband, god, Viktor's his _husband_ \--until Eric's checked in with him. Yuuri's long since exhausted the list of questions he needs to text to Phichit and has just started to sink into true panic when Eric comes to get him.

"Yuuri? You can come on out, now."

Yuuri gets shakily to his feet, following Eric obediently out to the lobby where Viktor is seated, head in his hands, waiting for them. Yuuri's whole body protests the sight, distress ringing out in every vein in his body. This is wrong; this is _wrong_ , but right now it isn't Yuuri's place to make it right.

"Viktor?" Jack says quietly. "He's here."

Viktor draws a shaky breath before slowly, slowly, raising his head to meet Yuuri's eyes. He stares at Yuuri for a long moment before squeezing his eyes shut, his throat working rapidly. "I don't know if I can do this," he whispers, more, Yuuri thinks, to himself than to anyone else in the room. "I don't…." Jack settles a hand on Viktor's shoulder and leans over to whisper something in his ear that has Viktor tensing. "Don't even say that," Viktor hisses, head snapping up so he can meet Jack's gaze. Yuuri feels his chest go tight at the harshness in Viktor's words. "Don't even--"

"Then you can do this," Jack answers, his face and voice stern. "You can do this, Viktor."

Yuuri can't see the look on Viktor's face, but he can see the way he shakes for a long moment before relenting, nodding, and turning back to Yuuri. There's pain in his features, and Yuuri feels a heaviness in his muscles that's nothing like coming off the ice after a long practice.

"Hello, Yuuri," Viktor says, voice trembling. "You must have some questions for me."

_Why me?_ Yuuri wants to ask. But instead he stares and stares, wracking his brain for something other than the obvious question, because something in him knows that one will do more damage than good. Still, the two words rattle around in his mind, and he has to keep swallowing them down while he searches for something, _anything_ else. "Are you really my coach?"

Viktor's smile is pained, but genuine. "I am."

"How long?"

"Almost five years now."

_Why me?_ "And you're not skating competitively anymore?"

"Not since I became your coach."

_Why me?_ "Why not?"

"Haven't wanted to go back, honestly. I like it much better on this side of the ice."

_Why me?_ "And we're…." Yuuri swallows, trying to force the word past his lips, but it seems so impossible, so huge, so _wrong_ that he can't make himself say it. So instead, he just lifts his left hand, ignoring the way it shakes as he displays the ring there.

Viktor's smile goes even sadder, but he lifts his own hand, showing Yuuri the matching band that rests there.

Yuuri swallows, his whole world tilting on its axis. It feels strange and impossible and wrong, but the proof is there, and there's nothing he can do besides nod once, turning to the group at large to ask the last question he will permit himself. "So, what do we do now?"

It takes all his willpower not to ask the one question he has forbidden himself from asking. The one question whose answer will make all the difference. The one question that will change everything and make it all make sense in one fell swoop. Because if there's one thing Yuuri can trust right now that isn't Phichit's voice in his ear, it's his instincts, and they're screaming at him not to ask this one question. So he won't, he won't, and he'll suffer in silence until they make this all make sense to him again. He bites it all down and nods along to words he can barely hear while Jack and Eric and Viktor make plans. Yuuri has nothing to add, so he nods and listens and waits, his tongue and teeth and throat burning with the need to ask.

_Why me?_

\----

Eric gets on the phone to Phichit, and Yuuri hovers close to him. There's something about Eric that is so similar to Phichit that it soothes some of Yuuri's frazzled nerves. They're talking about things that Yuuri doesn't really understand, nor does he care to understand, honestly, so he ignores most of it. But that's fine with him, because it gives him a chance to watch Viktor out of the corner of his eye, where his head is bent toward Jack's while Jack talks quietly to him. There's something achingly familiar about the curve of Viktor's spine and the sweep of his hair, but Yuuri chalks it up to too many hours spent watching him skate. It can't be memories of their time together clouding his judgment. He's obviously come to know Viktor well, but if he's truly forgotten what they had together, there shouldn't be any lingering remnants. So Yuuri casts aside the illusion of his memories and tries to listen to what Eric's saying instead.

For all that he tries, though, Eric's words ebb and flow at the edges of his consciousness, and he cannot grasp them or their meaning. He continues to be distracted by Viktor until he all but gives up on feigning interest in Eric's words. Viktor glances his way once or twice, but when he does, his jaw goes tight and he flicks his gaze away again. It leaves an ache in Yuuri's chest, makes him want to turn away too, but he can't, he _can't_ , some part of him completely certain that just watching Viktor will be enough to trigger the memories he doesn't quite believe are there.

"Thanks, Phichit," Eric says, the finality of his tone drawing Yuuri's attention. "I'll work on this with them and see what it does." As he ends the call, Eric waves at Jack and Viktor, who both make their way toward them, Jack still talking to Viktor in low tones. "We have an idea," Eric says, glancing between Yuuri and Viktor, "but it's not going to be easy."

Viktor's jaw goes tight, and it's that more than anything else that drives Yuuri to speak. "I'll do it." he says, eyes fixed on Viktor's face. "Whatever it takes, I'll do it."

"It's not that simple, Yuuri. Viktor's the one that did the Casting, he'll need to skate the counterspell with you."

Yuuri turns to look at Viktor, whose face is even more obviously pained than before as he stares at Yuuri. Viktor blinks once, slowly, before turning back to Eric. "Is there a chance that it could make things worse?"

Eric's face goes grim. "There's always a chance of that, Viktor. Magic is a delicate thing, and so is the human mind. I can't promise you anything."

Viktor closes his eyes, drawing a slow deep breath, and releasing it just as slowly. He stares at Yuuri for a long moment, before he speaks. "I'm sorry. But this has cost us too much already. I won't do it."

Something in Yuuri's chest shatters. Still, he holds himself together, swallowing thickly as he tries to search for the words that will convince Viktor that this is worth it. "You don't care if I never remember?"

Instead of softening his resolve, the words seem to harden it. "I would rather have you alive and well than risk losing you altogether."

Viktor turns on his heel and storms out of the rink. Jack glances once at Eric before taking a few quick steps to catch up with him, but Yuuri barely notices. He can only think of what Viktor is giving up. He closes his eyes, taking a deep breath, choking down the disappointment and hurt in his chest.

Eric reaches out for him, one hand on his elbow. "Yuuri?"

Yuuri shakes his head, fighting down the tears. "It's fine, Eric," he forces himself to say. "It's… it's fine."

It isn't fine, but maybe saying it is will be a step in the direction of making it so.

\----

Eric walks with Yuuri back to what Yuuri presumes is Eric and Jack's apartment. The cold stirs a memory in the back of Yuuri's mind, but the more he reaches for it, the further away it gets. He pushes a frustrated hand through his bangs as the memory slips away, and Eric reaches out for him. "Everything okay?"

Yuuri gives a halfhearted smile and shrugs. "My whole world's been turned upside down in the last few hours. I woke up in the wrong year, where my idol is apparently my coach and my husband, but I can't remember it because apparently I'm an Ice Mage, only no one ever saw fit to tell me before now." Yuuri laughs darkly. "It's not something I ever expected to happen."

Eric nods. "That makes sense."

"And to know that whatever we had wasn't enough that Viktor would do anything to want it back…." Yuuri laughs again. "Just. How strong of a relationship could it have even been, then?"

Eric looks taken aback at the words. "Viktor loves you. He brought you halfway around the world to make sure that you were safe. That you survived."

"That _I_ survived, sure," Yuuri concedes, "but not our relationship. All that means is that I'm important, but we're not. That whatever we were doesn't matter enough to him to risk everything."

Eric goes quiet, turning away from Yuuri to stare at the path ahead. "Maybe… Maybe what you were is just important enough that Viktor doesn't want to lose a chance at having it again."

"Maybe, but if I can't remember, will we ever be able to get back to what we were? Will whatever we end up being ever be even a glimmer of what we had before? Or will it just just a shadow, a weak imitation, where Viktor knows everything about me and I know… I know nothing of him."

Eric stares at Yuuri as they walk, quiet disbelief in his gaze. He doesn't come up with a response in all the time it takes them to make it back to the apartment.

\----

Yuuri tries not to skirt around Viktor for the rest of the day, giving him his space and the time he needs to come to a decision. He watches as Viktor's eyes linger on him, as they catch on his motions and movements. Viktor seems to cue in to everything that Yuuri says, but more than once whatever Yuuri says doesn't seem to satisfy, leaving his face falling, or his eyes darting away. It aches, but at the same time it stokes a fire in Yuuri's chest. How can Viktor expect Yuuri to be what he used to be when he won't even try to get Yuuri's memories back?

Finally, as dusk turns to dark and they are ushered into Eric and Jack's guest room--presumably not for the first time--everything comes to a head. Viktor's eyes keep tracking Yuuri as he moves through the unfamiliar space, getting ready for bed, and as he slips toward the bathroom to get dressed for bed, Viktor lets out a remorseful sigh.

Yuuri turns on his heel and storms back over toward the bed, throwing the sleep clothes into his suitcase and glaring at Viktor. "What is your problem?"

Viktor looks taken aback. "Problem? I don't have a problem, what--"

"You won't even try to get my memories back," Yuuri continues, steamrolling over Viktor's protestations, "because it's too risky and I might end up hurt or dead, but you look at me like I'm already dead!"

"I don't look at you--"

"You keep watching me, but you won't even try to speak to me! You look at me like I'm the answer to every question you've ever asked, but you don't care enough to…." All at once, the fight goes out of Yuuri. "You look at me like you know me, but you won't let me know you."

Viktor's quiet for a long time, eyes wide and stunned as he stares up at Yuuri.

"Are you… are you mad at me for forgetting?"

This seems to be entirely the wrong thing to say, for it leads to Viktor surging out of bed, standing before Yuuri with fury and desperation in the lines of his body. "I'm not mad at you, Yuuri, I'm mad at myself! I should never have let things get far enough that we had to drain your magic in the first place! I should have listened to my instincts a year ago and come here then."

"So why didn't you?"

Viktor's face is stunned as he stares at Yuuri. "Because…." He swallows, looking like he feels foolish. "Because you wanted to keep skating. And I just wanted to see you happy."

"And was I happy?"

Viktor's face softens. "So very much so."

Yuuri shrugs. "Then you did the right thing, didn't you? If we're married, that means we're a team, and if that's what we decided together, then that was the right thing to do."

Viktor stares at him, confusion on his features. Then, with a laugh, he reaches out, pulling Yuuri into a hug. It almost stuns Yuuri into inaction, but his body seems to know how to respond even when his mind doesn't, and he returns the embrace wholeheartedly. Eventually Viktor draws back, hands on Yuuri's shoulders while he searches his face. "Do you want to try to get your memories back?"

"Whatever we had must have been wonderful, because I can see how much you miss it every time you look at me. I want to have it back, no matter the risk."

Viktor swallows, his eyes flicking over Yuuri's face. He nods, once, quickly, as though he wants to get the decision over with. "Alright," he says quietly. "Let's do it."

\----

It takes the better part of a week for Yuuri to learn the routine up to Eric and Phichit's standards, but for all that he feels like that's longer than it should take, everyone else seems impressed with how quickly he's learning it. Even Jack looks impressed when he makes it back from his quick road trip, nodding at Yuuri as he skates toward the bench. Viktor has picked it up even faster, though, which leaves Yuuri grumpy and frustrated.

"But of course I would have picked it up faster," Viktor says that night when Yuuri brings it up to him. "It's…." He pauses momentarily, as though wondering if he should continue. He shakes it off and does so anyway. "It's based on the pair skate we did at the exhibition after your first Grand Prix with me as your coach."

Yuuri blinks. "We did a pair skate at the exhibition?"

Viktor's face softens with fondness. "Yes."

Yuuri stares, a little stunned. "Oh." It feels like it should be just one more revelation in a week of revelations, but it feels somehow more important. More weighty and significant. But the second he thinks that, the thought dissipates, leaving him just as confused as ever.

Viktor smiles sadly, giving an aborted motion toward Yuuri before stepping back. "Good night, Yuuri."

Yuuri nods. "Good night."

\----

Before the moment when they finally step out onto the ice to skate the routine for real, Yuuri can't help but feel a tingle of apprehension. But Viktor reaches out for his hand, smiling at him. "You're going to be just fine, Yuuri," he says softly.

Yuuri stares up at Viktor for a long moment, until that space in his chest that Viktor seems to have always occupied fills up with a feeling of comfort and safety. Throat tight, Yuuri can't respond, but he nods slowly, once. Viktor smiles in return, and leads him onto the ice.

The routine feels flawless. It's not quite as graceful as Yuuri knows he's capable of, and it's certainly not the effortless ease that Viktor's known for, but for barely a week of practice, it's sufficient. But as they strike their final pose and Yuuri reaches for the space where he thinks his memories should be, nothing's there. Yuuri frowns, and when Viktor turns to look at him his face falls at the expression. "Nothing?" he asks quietly.

Yuuri shakes his head, throat going tight all over again. He swallows the thickness down and looks Viktor in the eye. "Again?"

Viktor's face softens, a flash of recognition in his expression. "Again."

Two more skates later, nothing seems to have changed, but Yuuri's eyes catch on where Eric and Jack have their heads bent together. He looks over at Viktor and nods in their direction. Viktor nods back, and the pair of them skate over to Eric and Jack. Eric looks up as the skate over and elbows Jack. Jack looks up, his face somewhere between grim and hopeful.

"We need to put the lift in," Jack says without preamble.

Yuuri's eyes go wide. "Are… are you sure?"

Jack nods. "It's the only portion of the skate where you two have to be completely in sync. Both of you are doing exactly what you need to do, but Viktor's magic is out of sync with Yuuri, likely because it's looking for Yuuri's magic and doesn't know how to respond when it isn't there. If we can get your bodies fully in sync, fully dependent on each other, then we might still have a chance.

Viktor turns to Yuuri, worry on his face. "It's your call, Yuuri. You're the one that's going to get hurt if we do this wrong. Whatever you think is best."

Yuuri looks up at Viktor, quirking an eyebrow at him. Viktor's face splits into a knowing grin even before Yuuri speaks the words. "What do you think?"

They take the rest of their ice time to practice the lift, but both Eric and Viktor insist on leaving it at that.

"If we try to skate the whole routine today, there's a chance you'll get hurt purely due to fatigue rather than due to the magic," Eric cautions. "We're not taking that chance."

Yuuri nods, disappointed but understanding. "But tomorrow?"

Eric nods. "Tomorrow."

\----

It's a much quieter night between Viktor and Yuuri, both of them still moving cautiously around each other, but both also feeling more comfortable than they have in a while. In the end, though, as they lie down to sleep, Yuuri can't help but ask one of the biggest questions he's wanted to know the answer to since the skate today went awry.

"Viktor?" Yuuri says. Viktor hums, signaling his attention even as his eyes drift closed with exhaustion. "Will you still stay beside me?" Yuuri asks quietly. Viktor's eyes fly open at Yuuri's words, scanning his face. Even in these short few days, Yuuri has become accustomed to having his idol at his side, and doesn't think he wants to go back to a life without him. "Even if I never remember. Will you still stay beside me?"

Viktor stares at Yuuri for a long moment. Then he leans across the distance between them, pressing a kiss to Yuuri's forehead. "For as long as you want me to, Yuuri. It would be my honor."

When Yuuri falls asleep that night, it is with the desperate hope that tomorrow will be enough.

\----

There's no fear as Yuuri steps out onto the ice the next day, only determination to see this through. The first half of the program is fine--flawless, even--but from the second Viktor's hands go to Yuuri's hips for the lift, Yuuri can feel the shift in the air and in his body. His vision begins to dim, making it even harder to see than normal, and his mind goes foggy. He does his best to keep skating, but he can feel himself falling behind where he should be.

The strangest part is the way he's almost certain that Viktor is meeting him where he is, mistake for mistake and misstep for misstep. Yuuri blinks fiercely as he skates, trying to get his footing, and as he fights and stumbles his way to the final pose, he can all but feel Viktor's worry from beside him on the ice. Still, Yuuri holds his pose for as long as he can, his vision darkening and dimming until, with one last desperate gasp and a wild glance in Viktor's direction, he passes out.

\----

When Yuuri comes to, it is to a series of bright, vivid memories that feel more real than he thinks he ever could have expected forty-eight hours ago. He looks up at Viktor with new eyes, and he opens his mouth to speak, only to feel something new--something distant and foreign, yet utterly familiar--in the corner of his mind. He pauses, reaching for it, and his eyes go wide as he realizes what it is. "I remember everything," he whispers. Viktor's face splits open with joy at Yuuri's words, and Yuuri could leave it at that, but there's more to it, more that Viktor needs to know. He sits up slowly, looking Viktor in the eyes. "Everything, Viktor. Everything."

Viktor blinks a few times, confusion in his gaze, but just as Yuuri's about to open his mouth to explain, Viktor draws back, clutching his hands to his mouth. "The… the night we met?"

Yuuri nods once, and Viktor's hands start to shake where they rest at his lips. "I remember everything, and I… Viktor, I'm so sorry I ever forgot."

Viktor's shaking his head before the words are even all the way out of Yuuri's mouth. "It wasn't--"

"I know it wasn't my fault, but still. I'm sorry, Viktor. I'm sorry you had to live with that for so long and I'm sorry I never tried to remember and I'm sorry--"

Viktor leans in, cutting Yuuri off with a kiss. "Thank you," he whispers against Yuuri's lips. "Thank you."

Yuuri just clenches his eyes shut. He'd thought he'd long since accustomed himself to how much Viktor loves him, but the revelation of what he'd long forgotten about that night is enough to crack that tenuous confidence. "You loved me right away, Viktor. From the moment I stood before you and begged you to be my coach. You loved me right away."

Viktor nods, a question in his eyes. "I did."

" _Why_?"

Viktor tilts his head to the side. "At first it was because you surprised me. Because you threw expectations out the window and let your truest, innermost heart guide you. I could never do that before you. Not like you could then, and not like I can now. You freed me, Yuuri, in a way that no one else could. You thought of me and believed in me and trusted me in a way that no one else had or has since. You were everything, Yuuri. Right from the start."

Yuuri's throat is tight as he stares up at Victor. Then, with a swallow, he gives a slow nod, reaching out to grasp Viktor's hand. "I may not have loved you as long," Yuuri concedes, "but I will always love you just as much."

Viktor's answering smile is wide and warm. "Of course!" he says, a jovial flippance in his tone. But then he lets his eyes fall on Yuuri's face with the kind of seriousness he usually only displays before free skates. "I have never doubted it."

Yuuri searches Viktor's gaze, and though it seems just a hair off of true, it's the best he has. "Good," Yuuri says, tightening his grip on Viktor's hand. "See to it that you never do."

Viktor's laugh is all the reassurance Yuuri needs.

**Author's Note:**

> zvezda moya = my star
> 
> [Come hang with me on tumblr!](http://hollyandvice.tumblr.com/)


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